


The Deeper the Hate, The Deeper the Love

by Baroness_of_Bara



Category: Super Mario & Related Fandoms, Super Mario Bros. (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Human, Angst, Arguing, Attempt at Humor, Bathing/Washing, Blood and Injury, Bowser Jr. is coming to terms with his dad getting the hots for his worst enemy, Caretaking, Developing Relationship, Dysfunctional Family, Ear Piercings, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, Family Fluff, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, God somebody get this Mario away from me, Google Translate Italian whoops...., Guilt, Heartbreak, Hehehe, Hero Complex, Hero Worship, Hostage Situations, Humanoid!Bowser, Humanoid!Koopalings, Hurt/Comfort, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I swear he's going to have a gotdang mental breakdown every fucking chapter, I'm bad at writing funny scenes, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Imprisonment, Kamek is old. and he is sick and tired of babysitting kids, Kidnapping, Larry....exists., Lemmy and Iggy are gay. That's it., Ludwig is a cunt, Luigi 'saves' his brother by doing a lot actually, M/M, Mario's-a dumb accent is-a in full-a effect, Mild Peach bashing, Mild Sexual Content, Morton is fascinated by the blossoming romance, Past Relationship(s), Please Kill Me, Prisoner of War, Rating May Change, References to Depression, Sharing a Bed, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, Slow To Update, So none of Monsieur Turtle Bits'....turtle bits, Somebody chop off my fingers before I create anymore sin, Stockholm Syndrome, Teasing, The Koopalings are a squad, Trust Issues, Wendy and Roy are fashionistas and they find Bowser's taste in fashion disgusting, non-human porn is still weird for me to write, sorta - Freeform, they're usually just awkward. like ME
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-16
Updated: 2018-09-20
Packaged: 2019-04-01 02:19:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 12,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13988418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Baroness_of_Bara/pseuds/Baroness_of_Bara
Summary: He hated Mario. No questions about it. There was not a single doubt in Bowser's mind. He was stubborn, obnoxiously good-hearted, and always, CONSISTENTLY getting in his way.However, as it turns out, while he hates Mario, he seriously can't bring himself to kill him.Now that's a bit of a problem, isn't it?----He doesn't hate Bowser. He has a healthy dislike of him, but that's almost to be expected from Mario, his arch-nemesis by all accounts. He's stubborn, obnoxiously loud, and always, CONSISTENTLY making things difficult for both the peaceful kingdom he protects and himself.However, as it turns out, his healthy dislike in place of hatred might have caused him to slip up this last battle....whoops?





	1. An Unforseen Event

**Author's Note:**

> And once more I get stuck in rarepair hell.
> 
> "Hey look, a weird pairing. Maybe I should go into the comments and leave one calling the author a degenerate without critiquing the actual writing"- yeah, actually pleaseq don't do that?

Mario grunted in pain as he flew backwards through the air and hit the ground on the other side of the bridge, knocking the wind out of him. His vision swam as he lost his Fire magic, the aura surrounding his body vanishing. He heard Peach cry out in alarm, as she normally did.

“GWAHAHAHA! Look at that! Maybe you've been doing this a bit too long, Mustache! Been a while since one of my punches actually connected. All that pasta must be bloating ya!” Bowser exclaimed boisterously, folding his arms grinning as he stared down his nose at his fallen nemesis. Mario frowned and jumped back to his feet, a determined glare on his face. “Eh? Still got fight left in ya? How do you plan on defeating me with none of yer _fancy_ Flower magic? Might as well lay down an' give up!”

“The only one here whosa ‘pparently getting old is _you_ , if you can't remember every time I've kicked your-a butt without-a my magic!” Mario retorted, smirking. Bowser snarled, unfolding his arms and shaking his fist at Mario.

“Grr, just shuddup so I can wallop ya again, ya stupid plumber!” He growled, teeth gritted in fury.

Mario dashed towards Bowser, and with a roar, a fireball was lobbed towards him. He angled his form to just nearly duck beneath it, the top of it just barely grazing the top of his hat, knocking it off. Another headed dead towards him that he was forced to front flip over. He hit the ground and rolled to regain his running stance, then dashed forward even faster. He flipped, prepared to deliver a nice stomp to Bowser's chest, only for his eyes to widen slightly as Bowser moved backwards. He had no chance to retry his trajectory, and slammed down onto his ankle. Hard. Mario yelled out in pain and collapsed, his now fractured ankle sending waves of agony up his leg. He choked back a sob, adrenaline beginning to pulse through him.

That wasn't suppose to happen.

That had NEVER happened.

“Wow! I can't believe you missed! Man, you been gettin’ rusty Mario?” Bowser asked, sounding more surprised than taunting. Mario gritted his teeth. Anything that came out his mouth was almost guaranteed to sound pathetically pained. He glared at the ground, desperately blinking back tears. This was bad. This was so, **_so_** bad. He heard Bowser move towards him and felt every muscle in his body tense. Mustering up every ounce of energy he could, he stood, slowly and shakily, to his feet. Pure agony coursed through his body, but he couldn’t give up. Everyone was counting on him to win. He couldn’t, no, _wouldn't_ lose.

“Heh, so yer still gonna keep goin'? That's one thing I like about you, Mario! Even when its stupid, ya keep going.” Bowser's eyes narrowed. He was a mere foot away from Mario, looking down at the swaying, clearly pained plumber with a mixture of boredom and strangely enough, what could’ve been concern. “Yer about to fall over. So either do it or limp yer carcass outta my castle, and stop wastin' my time.” He stated plainly. Mario gave him an angry glare and chose the third option: throwing a punch. It surprisingly connected, but there was little power behind it. Bowser chuckled and shook his head. “Wrong answer, Mustache.” He smashed Mario in the chest with his foot, sending the plumber careening backwards with a cry of pain. He slammed onto the hard stone, twitched slightly, and then at once every muscle relaxed, and he was out cold.

 

The hero of the Mushroom Kingdom had lost.

 

* * *

 

“ _ **MARIO**_!” Peach cried, gloved hands grasping the bars as she stared at her hero laying on the ground. “Bowser, how could you… _you_ —" Her dainty frame shook with fury as she glared at the Koopa King. Bowser rolled his eyes.

“Wouldya put a sock in it? He ain't dead. Just conked out. Idiot should've quit.” He crouched to pick up the unconscious man, grabbing onto his battle worn work overalls.

“What…what are you going to do with him?” she asked, a hint of fear in her voice. Bowser snorted and gestured slightly to Mario, shaking him.

“Dunno. Maybe I'll toss ‘im into the lava.” He replied, bitterly. “Never seemed to have any issues doing it to me.”

“You act as though you didn't deserve it! And I absolutely won't let you kill Mario!” her face was beginning to redden with anger.

Bowser had to chuckle at that. ‘Won’t let him'? As if she had the strength to protect her idiot hero. She hardly had the strength to protect herself.

“M'not gonna kill him. Waste of effort. I don't fight passed out _weaklings_! Got more respect for myself than that. I'll toss him in the dungeon. If he dies down there, its his fault, not mine.” He slung Mario over his shoulder, ignoring the soft cry of pain that slipped past Mario's parted lips. “Kamek!”

Kamek flew down, glaring smugly at the fallen plumber. “Yes, your Wretchedness? Want me to dispose of the trash?” he questioned somewhat gleefully. Bowser shook his head.

“Nah. Take the princess to her usual room. I got Mustache here.” Bowser grunted. Kamek looked disappointed, but nodded and did as instructed, flying over to the Princess' cage.

“You won't get away with this Bowser!” she yelled after him.

Bowser sneered back at her and shifted the limp man onto his shoulder. “Gotta disagree with ya there, Peach!”

* * *

 

 

Bowser did not, in fact, take Mario to the dungeons.

Instead, he made his way to one of the guest rooms near his own master bedroom. “As much as it would please me to have you cozying up in my dungeon, yer injured. I'm a brute, but I got some class. Ya heal up, then yer goin' in the dungeon. I want you to be healthy enough to fully appreciate how thoroughly you _lost_.” He explained, though he doubted Mario could hear him.

He wrapped his arm around Mario’s midsection and used his other hand to turn the knob. Inside was a simple wooden bed with a simple cotton mattress, a nightstand, and a heavy wooden chair. He hefted Mario over and onto the bed, the frame giving a slight creak. He called for a servant to fetch him some bandages and healing salve, taking care not to let them see Mario, his greatest foe, lying cozy on a bed in his castle. He had a reputation to uphold. He tore off the bottom most portion of Mario's overalls, exposing his swelling and broken ankle.

“Heh, you _really_ messed this up. Let this be a lesson Mustache. Expect everything. Ya got soft, fell into routine. Can't expect to win all the time...” He slathered healing salve on the reddening and swollen area, and then began to carefully (or as carefully as he could) wrap the injured ankle tightly in bandages. He also rubbed the salve on the particularly nasty wound on his temple, and wrapped his head up as well. He set a pillow underneath Mario's foot, and finally covered the plumber in a heavy quilt. He sat and stared for a bit, examining Mario's face. He had rarely seen Mario so…still. The plumber was lively, energetic, and animated, whether fighting, racing, gaming, or playing sports, so to see him so immobile was deeply disturbing to his arch-nemesis.

Mario whined softly and shifted, causing Bowser to tense up. It was going to be a bit difficult to handle the plumber when he awoke, but Bowser was no coward. ‘Difficult' was his middle name.

 

...

Well…not really, but you get what he means!


	2. The Awakening

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mario awakens.

Mario groaned as pain stabbed through his skull. The last thing he could remember was a horrible, almost crushing blow to the chest, and then darkness. He wracked his brain, desperately trying to remember where he was.

“Oh, good. Yer awake.”

Mario's eyes snapped open. His vision swam from the pain in his ankle and his head. He tried to sit up, but a strong hand pushed him back down. “Nuh-uh Mustache, no gettin' up. Not with that lump on yer head and that banged up ankle.” Mario grunted as he desperately tried to recall. That voice. Who was it?

“Where-a…am I?”

He heard the person next to the bed he was laying on snort. “My castle. I know ya hit yer head, but that's a _bit_ much ain't it?”

Mario felt his stomach drop. His eyes finally made that death-defying trek to the left.

Ginger hair. Piercing red eyes. Tanned skin covered in tattoos. A fanged grin that had taunted him just before he had been knocked into unconsciousness.

Bowser.

He was still in Bowser's Castle.

He had failed.

He had **lost**.

“Hey, yer not lookin' so hot, Mustache…” Bowser commented, taking notice of the way Mario's face began to pale.

 

It seemed as though it happened in slow motion.

 

Mario shrieked and tried to scramble away from the man sitting next to the bed, only to let out an agonized wail as pain shot up his leg.

Bowser rolled his eyes and huffed. “Moron. Did you forget how much ya screwed up that ankle?”

Mario felt tears welling in his eyes. _‘This is a nightmare. I'm gonna wake up, and everything's gonna be fine.’_

“Aw, what's wrong? It sinkin' in how thoroughly you got _thrashed_?” Bowser taunted. He may have showed the plumber mercy, but that was the extent of his niceties.

Mario glared and reared back his fist to punch the Koopa King right in his smug face, only for it to be knocked away easily. “Pfft. As if you could do _anything_ to me like ya are.”

Mario let out a cry of frustration and swung again, and Bowser sighed and grabbed his wrist. Mario's eyes widened and he immediately began to pull back.

“Let me go!”

“Would you _relax_!? I don't want to hurt you right now but if I gotta, I'll do it.”

That seemed to only frighten the plumber even more, his blue eyes misty from unshed tears. Bowser found it bizarre. Mario had never cried in front of him before, and he was admittedly curious to see it happen.

Mario thrashed like a Cheep Cheep on a hook, desperately trying to free himself from the Koopa King's hold.

“I'm trying to help you, Mustache. ‘Least you could do is play nice.”

That made Mario glare, anger taking hold where fear once was. “Help? _**HELP** **!?**_ You _did_ this to me!”

“As if! …Okay, the head injury and the bruise on yer chest was me, but you screwed up yer ankle all on yer own.” Bowser smirked, showing off his sharp teeth. “Speaking of that, nice job. Ya hurt _yerself_ more than I could.”

Something about that seemed to resonate with Mario, because he immediately went limp. Tears began to trail down his cheeks, and he stared down at the bed. Bowser stared, slightly taken aback. What had he said to cause _that_ reaction? He had expected Mario to get angry, not start crying.

“Look, I don't get why yer freakin' out. You should be thankful I didn’t toss yer worthless hide into the dungeon. Which I could’ve _totally_ done, by the way.”

Mario snorted. “Then why _didn't_ you?”

“Not a fan of tossing disabled people into my dungeons. I'm evil, but I have _standards_. Once yer ankle heals up, _then_ I'll throw ya in there. ‘Sides, how're ya gonna come to appreciate how much I **kicked yer ass** if ya can't even think past the pain?”

Mario growled. “I don't want your _help_. Take me to the dungeon. I don't care.”

“Ya say that now, but ya ain't foolin' me ‘Stache. Yer _scared_ of me!” Bowser taunted. Just as expected, Mario snarled in anger and swung at him again. He caught the plumber's wrist once more. “We’re back to this? C'mon Mario…” he squeezed the arm in his grasp a bit tighter, feeling a small amount of satisfaction from the pained, uncomfortable look on Mario's face.

“S-Stop…it _hurts_ …” Mario hissed, struggling to pull away and flinching as his struggles only made his wrist hurt more.

“Why? From what I can tell, ya seem to want me to hurt ya. What with all this mouthing off yer doin'.” He pulled Mario closer, until the two of them were nearly nose-to-nose. “Y’seem to be _confused_ about who has the upper hand in this situation. I'm healing ya up, outta sheer mercy, and allowin' you to lay up in my home. I won't kill ya when yer like this, but don't think for a second that I'm not willing to knock ya around if yer gonna insist on getting uppity and violent with me. Are we _clear_?”

Mario glared back at him, refusing to speak. Irritated, Bowser squeezed until he was sure he heard a creak. Mario yelped. “Okay, okay, I got it! Let go! LET GO!”  
Bowser stared deeply into those pained and slightly frightened blue eyes, then with a grunt, he roughly released Mario's arm. Mario snatched it away and cradled it, wincing slightly. Bowser eyed it. It was discolored from bruising.

  
_‘Shit, didn’t mean to bruise it like that. Probably still hurts like hell. At least now he knows his place…’_

 

“Lemme wrap that up.”

Mario eyed him warily. “Only if you promise not to hurt me again.”

“You tried hittin' me first!”

“Don’t even try justifying yourself! I’m bedridden with a broken ankle you _idiota_!”

“Oh NOW yer playin' up yer injury!? You really are a thorn in my _asscheek_ , ‘Stache!”

 _“La sensazione è reciproca, re disadattato!*”_ Mario snapped, smirking internally at the way Bowser's face scrunched up in a mixture of confusion and irritation.

“If yer gonna insult me, at least use words that I understand!” he snarled. “Do you want yer damn arm healed or not!?”

“ _Le stelle qui sopra mi danno forza**_...fine. “ Mario muttered, then hesitantly held out his arm to the Koopa king, obviously still frightened.

“Finally. I swear I was a few seconds from just _leaving_ ya in here for the rest of today.” Bowser grabbed the healing salve and popped off the top. Mario looked suspicious, and Bowser looked annoyed. “What’s that look for? It's Super Mushroom Super Salve.”

“Forgive me for not blindly trusting _anything_ you are planning to put on me.”

Bowser rolled his eyes. “Only way I'm beating ya is on a battlefield, Plumber. Killing ya with poison is for chumps who don't have the chops to beat ya fair n' square. ‘Sides, seems kinda unfitting for you to die in such a undignified way…” Oops. He hadn't meant for that last tidbit to slip out.

 

Over the years that they had known and fought one another, Bowser had began to feel something develop for the chubby, animated plumber. Not anything resembling fondness, but more like a grudging respect for a man who time and time again had stepped up to the plate, risked life and limb, and stood against him.

 

Unwavering, unfaltering, unyielding.

 

Mario Mario was a man he considered worthy of his esteem.

 

His eyes shifted nervously to look at Mario. He had no idea how Mario would process the subtle hint he'd been given.

“Undignified? Hm. Well then, what way do you think I _should_ die?” Mario asked, smiling thinly despite the melancholy curiosity in his voice.

Bowser look shocked. For all the talk he spewed about finally beating Mario for good…he’d never considered actually doing it. The thought of Mario actually dying was an inconceivable thought to him. Mario may get ‘set back' and ‘momentarily kicked down', but he always got back up. Time and time again, Mario refused to simply lie down and give up, even when all odds were stacked against him. Even now, Bowser fully expected the crafty plumber to later escape his dungeon, rescue Peach, and be on his merry way. It was simultaneously enthralling and frustrating how his nemesis seemed to be able to luck and gall his way out of any trap or puzzle.

 

He had never considered how Mario would or could die.

“Uhh…I dunno. It'd have to be like, epic, or somethin'! With fire, and explosions, and a fight to the death! You wouldn’t go out like a poisoned up chump, that’s for sure!”

Mario looked taken aback. “That’s…oddly _flattering_ coming from you, Bowser.” He responded slowly, eyebrow raised.

_‘Shit, he's catching on, abort, change subject!’_

“ _As if_. Now hold still.” Bowser growled. He dipped three of his fingers in the thick, mousse like salve. He carefully spread it around on the bruised and discolored parts of Mario's wrist, and gently rubbed it in, trying not to put the plumber through anymore pain. Finally, he pulled away.

“You're done?” Mario asked.

“Yeah. Just wait a while, it'll start to numb.” With that, Bowser stood to his feet and walked towards the door to the room.

“W-Wait!”

Bowser turned away from the door to look at his captive/patient(?). “What?”

“So you're just going to leave me here?”

Bowser sniggered. “I’m sure I'll be back in a while with water or something. Probably. Why d'ya care. Ya gonna miss me, Mustache?”

Mario looked utterly unamused. “Even as a joke, that wasn’t funny.” He deadpanned.

Bowsed chuckled. “Really? I thought it was hilarious.” Bowser turned the knob, opened the door, and walked out. He shut the door, and Mario looked hopeful, until he heard a click.

 

Great, he was locked in.

 

In Bowser's Castle.

 

With a head injury, broken ankle, and bruised wrist.

 

Fan-fucking-tastic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the possibly poorly translated Italian. I took French, and though there are few differences due to both being romantic languages, its still a bit too different for me to translate from scratch (^_^;)
> 
> *The feeling is mutal, misfit king.
> 
> **Stars above, give me strength


	3. The Attempted Flight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mario is an idiot, and Bowser is an idiot. So basically, they're both morons. Ace.

Bowser returned about 2 hours later, a glass of water and a bowl of soup on the tray he was carrying. He walked into the room and nearly dropped it.

 

Mario wasn't on the bed.

 

_‘No way. His ankle's broken. He has a concussion. The door was locked. There's no way he escaped.’_

 

A pitiful groan sounded out from the other side of the bed, relaxing him somewhat.

He sighed and set the tray on the night stand, then strode over to the side of the bed where the noise had come from. There, lying on the floor in a tangle of blankets and limbs, was his prisoner/patient.

Mario looked at him, his expression miserable. “Please…help.”

Bowser sighed and walked over to the distressed plumber, kneeling down to assess the situation. He wondered briefly how long Mario had been on the floor, but figured he'd ask once Mario was in the bed once again. He slid one hand beneath Mario and lifted his torso up. That was the easy part. He eyed Mario. “Brace yerself, ‘Stache. This might hurt.”

“It _already_ … _ **hurts**_. I don' think…it can get much _worse_.” Mario hissed, eyes narrowed and teeth grit from pain. Bowser decided not to respond, and slid his arm underneath Mario's legs. Then, as carefully as he could, he stood to his feet. Mario bit his lip in order to stifle the agonized wail that bubbled up from his throat as his injured ankle was jostled despite Bowser’s best effort, the only thing escaping being a pathetic whimper. Bowser mumbled a curt apology, and walked over to the other side of the bed. The scene would have been comical to anyone else, the fearsome Koopa King carrying the Mushroom Kingdom's Superstar just like the princess he so often kidnapped. Bowser, however, currently found it annoying. He set Mario down and maneuvered his leg back onto the pillow it had once rested on. He then moved back and sat on the chair, his expression humorless.

“So…y’wanna explain how you got down there in the first place?” Bowser had an idea of what had placed the plumber in such a precarious situation, but he had been wrong before.

Mario looked off to the side away from him, unresponsive. Bowser followed his gaze, and immediately felt a wave of disappointment. The window. The idiot had _actually_ attempted to escape in his condition.

He sighed and gave Mario the most unimpressed glare he could muster. “ _Please_ don't tell me you were actually trying to escape.”

Mario turned his head to look at his captor. “I’m no liar, Bowser.” He replied simply.

That ticked Bowser off. “You're _**awfully**_ fuckin’ _cheeky_ about admitting how **stupid** you are.”

Mario returned Bowser's enraged glare. “Another thing I'm not is _stupid_! Do you honestly think I'm buying…whatever _this_ is supposed to be!?” he snapped.

Bowser looked dumbfounded. “…’what this is supposed to be'?”

“You know _exactly_ what I’m talking about!” Mario yelled. “You think I'll fall for this nice guy routine? I know exactly what's happening! You'll play ‘nice’, treating me okay, helping me get better, make me start to trust you, and then you'll do something to hurt me even more! I'm not letting it happen! Not again!” Mario's eyes widened as he, as well as Bowser, realized what he had said.

“…Again? What do you mean ‘again’?”

Mario looked horrified. “I didn't…it was a mistake. Forget I said anything, _per favore_.” He pleaded.

Bowser was stunned. Had the situation that Mario had just described...happened to him before? He seemed terrified of Bowser knowing. However, with the way the plumber was currently fidgeting and trembling, it was unlikely that he would get any info out of him about it.

_‘Maybe Peach'll know. Or maybe I could wrangle up his scaredy-cat of a brother. Sure I could scare him into spilling the beans.’_

He sighed and reached over to the tray, feigning disinterest. “Whatever. Don't care much about yer personal issues, Mario.” He picked up the glass of water and held it out to the plumber. “Here. Drink.”

Mario looked at the glass and then at Bowser, suspicion obvious in his expression. Bowser rolled his eyes. “Ya _really_ need to stop thinkin' that everything I give ya is poison. If I _wanted_ to kill ya, I woulda by now.”

“You say that with a lot of confidence, for someone so often the _losing_ side.” Mario scoffed, taking the glass. He glanced at Bowser briefly one last time, then slowly tipped the glass towards his waiting mouth. As cool water trickled past his lips, he couldn’t help but give a satisfied sigh through his nose. His throat had been parched for a while now, so a glass of water was absolutely perfect. He gulped the entire glass down and finally pulled it away from his lips, letting out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding.

He looked over at Bowser, who was wearing an extremely smug expression, his teeth slightly bared in a smirk. “What?”

“ _Thirsty_ , huh ‘Stache?”

Mario snorted and prepared to lay back down, only for Bowser to lean forward and grab him by the shoulder. He raised an eyebrow at Bowser, unsure why he had been stopped.

“Not yet. Ya gotta eat too, or didya not notice the bowl—and _**no,**_ it’s not poison.” Bowser added as he saw Mario prepare to respond. Mario looked unsettled regardless and fidgeted. “Well?”

“I’m…not hungry.” Mario finally muttered. Bowser huffed and picked up the bowl.

“Look, we can either do this the easy way or the hard way. Either way, yer eatin' something.”

Mario glared. “And what are you going to—” he was interrupted as a spoon full of broth filled his mouth. The spoon was pulled out just as quickly, and Mario had no choice but to swallow the flavorful broth. “ _Stelle sopra_! What is wrong with you!?”

“Sorry, ‘Stache. That big mouth of yers was begging for something in it.” Bowser scoffed. He dipped the spoon in the broth again, and lifted it upwards. His gaze drifted to Mario, who was staring at him in a mixture of disgust and horror. “What? C'mon, the soup can't be _that_ damn bad!”

“I…I… _idiota_! That's not what I'm reacting to and you know it!”

“The hell're you talkin' about?”

“My ‘big mouth' was ‘begging for something in it'!? Did you not hear how perverted that sounded?”

Oh. So that's what it was. Bowser grinned devilishly. “Well…no. The fact that you did means that _yer_ the pervert here.” Mario blushed, and _wow_ was that a sight. Rarely had he seen his nemesis so embarrassed before. It was honestly, though he hated to admit it, pretty cute. The way his skin flushed and how said tinting blossomed across his nose, cheeks, neck, and the bit of chest showing underneath his—

_‘Whoa, where'd that come from?’_

“I…d-don’t try t-to turn this over on m-me!” Mario snapped. “Y-You knew _exactly_ what you were saying, _tu_ _pervertita tartaruga_!”

“Insulting me in yer weird language won't change the fact that ya got dirty thoughts on the mind, ‘Stache.” Bowser retorted. He may not want to hurt the plumber, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t mess with him a bit. “I don't blame ya though. I'm pretty damn sexy. Yer forgiven for havin' impure thoughts around me.”

Mario flushed an even deeper shade of red and let out an outraged growl. “I-In your _dreams_!”

“Bet you'd like that, wouldn’t you, Mario?” His voice dropped an octave, his gruff baritone smoothing over. He leaned closer to Mario. “An’ I bet you have impure dreams about _me_ all the time. Ain't. That. _**Right**_?” He punctuated his words with a blow of warm breath on Mario's ear. Mario shrieked and flailed his arms, and Bowser chuckled. Maybe he'd gone a bit too far, but that reaction was priceless.

“Fine, _FINE_! I'll eat, just leave me alone and s-stop d-doing… _that_!”

“Great. Then I'm leaving.” Bowser stood to his feet, handing the bowl to Mario as he did. He walked towards the door and opened it. “Oh, and, don’t try escaping again. Seriously.”

Mario didn't respond, and Bowser shook his head before closing the door and locking it. He shoved his hands in his pockets, thinking about what Mario had said. About him putting on an act just so he could hurt the plumber even more. The way he had alluded to such a thing happening before, and his abject terror at the prospect of Bowser finding out.

As Bowser prepared to mount the stairs to Peach's tower, he wondered why the plumber had been so petrified, and resolved to find out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stelle sopra- Stars above  
> tu pervertita tartaruga- you perverted turtle


	4. A Confrontation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stilettoes, death threats, and trauma, oh my!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: This chapter has mild themes of PTSD. So...just warning anyone who might care to skip over sensitive content like that.

Bowser had been standing outside of Peach's room for several minutes now.

Now, don't get him wrong. He wasn't scared of Peach.

But what he _was_ scared of was the information she might possess. Whatever Mario didn't want to tell him, it had frightened the plumber enough for him to beg his nemesis to forget it had even been brought up.

_‘Do I really want to know that information? Eh...nothing ventured, nothing gained, as they say…'_

He unbarred the door and pushed it open, preparing to start speaking. “So, Princess-“

He was cut off as a hot pink stiletto cracked against his nose, and pain bloomed behind his eyes. His hands immediately flew up to his slowly bruising and bleeding nose. “What the hell was _that_ for!?” he roared.

Peach stood on top of her bed, face determined and hand still outstretched from her winning pitch. “I just gave you your just desserts!”

Bowser snarled. Peach hadn't actively tried to harm him after a kidnapping in a few years, so a part of him was slightly astonished that she had the pluck to attack him.

“Yer lucky I've developed a bit more _patience_ lately, Princess…” His red eyes drifted up to the window set high on the wall behind her bed. The window looked as if it had been hit repeatedly, as it was covered in scuff marks. “So, be honest, you were trying to escape through that window by smashing it with yer shoe, yeah?”

Peach stared down at her shoeless foot, then over to the scuffed up window. She had the decency to look a bit sheepish. “Well…yes…”

Bowser sniggered, despite the pain radiating from his nose. “Ha, good luck with that. That's reinforced glass. The way that window is made…you’d never break it with a cheap, gaudy shoe.”

Peach gasped, clearly offended. “Gaudy? _Cheap!?_ How **dare** you! These heels are Shroomio Toadmani! They cost me 800 coins!”

Bowser shrugged. “Tch, not my fault that you wasted 800 coins on fake brand heels…”

Peach frowned. “What would _YOU_ know about high fashion?”

“One of my lieutenants is…trendy, for lack of a better word. Asks me to buy her fancy, expensive crap all the time.” He scratched the back of his neck, flushing slightly. “I guess after so long, I sorta just…absorbed that knowledge…”

“What, you mean _Wendy_!?” Peach scoffed. “That girl wouldn't know fashion if it kicked her in the teeth!”

Bowser rolled his eyes. “Whatever! Look, I need to know something. About Mario.”

Peach gave him a suspicious look, her lips pursing and eyebrow raising. “And what exactly makes you think I'd tell you?”

“Because if you DON'T, ‘Stache is going to be in for a _world_ of hurt.” He flashed the princess a villainous smirk. “Mario ain't a political prisoner like you. I can do _whatever_ I want with him, and you and yer kingdom of weaklings can’t do a thing about it.” He manifested a fireball, and part of him shivered in sick delight as he saw the fiery scarlet reflected in her horrified blue eyes.

“You…you wouldn’t!”

“Oh? Wanna test that theory? Ya really willing to let yer oh-so-perfect hero get roasted like a coffee bean, just to prove a point?”

Peach balled her hands into fists and outright snarled at him, an uncharacteristic behavior for the normally congenial and demure princess. “…Fine…what do you want to know?”

Bowser smirked and dispelled the fire. “Smart choice. Now…” He frowned, remembering the way Mario had begged him to drop the subject. _‘If I don't ask her, it's gonna eat away at me for ages. I gotta know…’_

He looked directly into Peach's cerulean eyes, as serious as he had ever been. “What happened to Mario?”

Peach looked confused. “What? What are you talking about?”

Bowser growled. He should've been a bit more specific. “I mean…look. I _hate_ Mario, don't get me wrong. He's a pain in my ass, and his goody two shoes behavior makes me **sick**.” He scratched his wrist. “But…even _I'm_ not cruel enough to play with his emotions and mess with his mind. I don’t play mind games. It's beneath me.”

“Are you _going_ somewhere with this?”

“…What happened to Mario, to make him think that I was _plannin_ ’ on doing that to him?”

Peach still looked confused. Then, suddenly, he saw it. A flash of clarity lighting up her eyes. It was gone just as quickly, and she frowned. “I mean, it's not too farfetched for him to assume that. You have been a constant heel to him and everyone he knows and loves. Why wouldn’t he distrust you?”

Bowser would've been inclined to believe her, had Mario himself not indirectly told him differently.

_‘I'm not letting it happen! Not again!’_

“Tch, nice try, Peachy. Mario ‘imself hinted that it had happened to him before. And like I just said, I don't play mind games.”

Peach looked down at her gloved hands, as if contemplating. Then, she looked back up at him, her eyes filled with sorrow.

 

“Mario was kidnapped.”

* * *

Mario stared up at the stone ceiling of his room, frowning.

Tch. _‘His room'_.

A more apt name would be his prison cell. The comfy bed and the treating of his injuries, the food and water…

It meant nothing.

Bowser was his warden, and he was a helpless prisoner, subject to his will.

He felt a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach and balled up the quilt in his fists.

A prisoner…a warden…

_**‘Thanks for helping me, I really appreciate it! But I should be going, ya know? Mio Fratello is probably worried sick…’** _

Mario felt tears beginning to well in his eyes.

_**‘Please, stay a bit longer! I insist! You're the Mushroom Kingdom's superstar! You deserve to be pampered and nursed! Let me take care of you…’** _

_**‘N-No, I really should be leaving…’** _

 

Mario stifled a sob. _‘I need to stop thinking of this. It hurts every time I do. Stars, why do I **do** this to myself…’_

He rubbed his eyes, and his thoughts returned to Bowser.

The Koopa King's behavior had been quite peculiar. He knew Bowser despised him, hated him with every fiber of his being. Mario personally didn’t feel the same way. Out of every villain he had ever faced in order to protect both the Mushroom Kingdom and even the world, Bowser was least deserving of his hatred. Now, that wasn't to say he liked Bowser. Bowser was a loudmouth, arrogant, grouchy asshole who refused to take a hint and had an ego the size of a small continent. He harassed Mario's friends and ended up putting innocent people in danger because of his selfish desires.

But he didn't hate him. Bowser wasn't worthy of Mario's hatred.

His cheeks flushed as he recalled what had transpired before Bowser had left the room. He could strangely still feel that warm puff of air against his ear and neck, and hear the suggestive intonation in Bowser's gruff voice. He knew that Bowser was likely just messing with him, but that didn't change what had happened. Bowser had _flirted_ with him. Jokingly, but still! He made sexually suggestive comments towards him!

If it had been any other man, one without several years of animosity and rivalry under his belt, he would have gladly reciprocated. He found attractiveness in many forms, and Bowser certainly fit his standards physically. Strong jawline, full beard, muscular, imposing, gorgeous eyes…

He shook his head, as if the action would knock the thought from his mind. _‘No! What are you doing? He's Bowser, helloooo!? He's a kidnapping, egotistic, selfish bastard who, may I add, hates your guts!’_

He sighed and adjusted himself, then winced as pain radiated from his chest. Right, those were still bruised. He let his eyes fall shut. Maybe he just needed a nap…

* * *

“Look…I just know what I was told. The only one who knew the full details was Luigi, and neither he nor Mario wanted to disclose what happened while he was held captive, what led up to it, or how he escaped.”

Bowser rolled his eyes. “If ya don't know any of that, then what _do_ you know?”

Peach glared at him. “I know that inquiring about this is a _massive_ violation of Mario's privacy! Aren't you ashamed!?” she hissed.

Bowser chuckled. “I’m a **king**. I’ve got no reasons to be ashamed.”

“Ugh, you are just… _ **UGH**_!”

“Yeah, yeah, heard it before. Now, about this…kidnapping business.”

Bowser was having a hard time believing Mario was kidnapped in the first place. Mario? The superstar, trap buster, puzzle solver extraordinaire? Kidnapped? It didn't seem plausible at all.

Peach took a deep breath. “Mario went missing for around 3 or 4 months, a little over 2 years ago. We searched for him for ages with no luck, and then one day he just showed up at the castle town and collapsed outside the doctor's office.” Her lip trembled. “He was totally delirious. Babbling nonsense and sobbing. He…” She choked and covered her mouth with her hand, overwhelmed by the memory. “H-He... _Stars_ …he was c-covered with injuries. Scratches, cuts…b-bitemarks…and… _and_ -” Peach swallowed thickly, struggling to speak through her sobs. “And there was _blood_. That wasn't _his_.”

Bowser’s mind was reeling. “Blood that wasn't his?”

Peach nodded hesitantly. “Y-Yes. As I said, Luigi didn't tell me what transpired that lead to Mario escaping…but…if I had to guess...” She looked down at the floor. “I believe Mario had to…kill his captor.” She murmured.

“…Jeez…” Bowser couldn’t think of anything else to say.

Peach looked into his eyes now, gaze stony and threatening. “Now, you listen here. Mario is one of my closest friends. I care for him deeply. Don't you _**dare**_ use the information I have given you against him. If I discover that you have used this to harm him…” She stood to her feet, and her body began to shine with a rose-colored, glimmering light. Her long blond tresses were blown by a magical wind, carrying upon it the sharp scent of stardust. “Never forget that I was also chosen by the Stars, Bowser. I may be a pacifist, but if you inflict pain upon my friend, especially involving this, I swear by the Stars' radiance that I will make you _**suffer**_.”

For one of the few times in his life, Bowser remembered just how dangerous the dainty princess of the Mushroom Kingdom could be. He nodded, and Peach searched his eyes, as if trying to discern a lie. The wind slowly died down, and the glow vanished. She turned her back on him. “Now. I believe you have received the information that you wished for. Leave.”

At any other point, Bowser would have snapped at the princess for daring to speak to him like that. But after the shocking bit of information he had just received, plus Peach's threat, he was in no state to have a temper.

Instead, he merely inclined his head stiffly, and left as she had asked.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mio Fratello- My Brother


	5. An Understanding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bowser hates Mario. No doubts about it.
> 
> But that doesn't mean he can't empathize.

Bowser opened the door to Mario's room, preparing for the worst.

He let out a huge sigh of relief that he hadn’t realized was even being held in.  Mario was still in the bed, and fast asleep.

 

He walked over to the bed and sat down in the chair. He knew that his schedule would be busy over the next few days. Between managing his kingdom and troops and preparing to deal with any search and rescue parties consisting of Mario’s hordes of loser friends, he wouldn’t have many moments of respite in the coming days.

 

It was ironic how the sporadic, energetic little man who caused him so much trouble could be so peaceful in his sleep. His chest rose and fell smoothly despite the condition of his ribcage, and soft snores and hums emanated from him. His eyes fluttered slightly behind his eyelids, meaning that he was likely in the midst of dreaming. Bowser wondered what he was dreaming about. Food, perhaps?  He knew how much the Mushroom Kingdom’s Superstar liked to eat. Or maybe something sappy, like his friends and his brother. Possibly a surreal dream, that made so little sense that it was impossible not to remember upon waking.

 

Bowser was jarred from his thoughts by Mario letting out a whimper. It was soft, and clearly born of fear, not pain. The man then thrashed and let out a frightened cry, and tears began to gather on the corner of his eyelids.  _‘Or maybe a nightmare.’_

 

He placed a hand on Mario’s cheek, hoping to settle him, only for the other man flinch and cry out.  “N-no!” 

 

Bowser pulled his hand away, brow furrowing. He had never heard Mario sound so... _terrified_ before. Worried, sure. Even anxious and jittery. But the way he had just sounded, trapped in the throws of a nightmare, was a truly horror-stricken wail. 

 

 _"Per favore, non toccarmi...Non voglio questo."_   Mario whimpered, tears slipping out from his eyes and making trails that led into his hair.  _"_ Stop! _Fratello! Fratello, aiutami! Aiutami!"_ Mario thrashed once more, then let out a pained shriek. _“Fa male...mi fa tanto male...perché mi stai facendo questo!?”_ he sobbed.

Bowser had no idea how to respond to the other man's actions. The words he was speaking sounded like gibberish to the Koopa King, but judging by his tone, Mario was begging and terrified.

 _“Non capisco…perché_ , Barean!?”

Bowser's eyes widened. Barean. That sounded like a name. Was that the person who had kidnapped him? He frowned and placed a hand on Mario’s shoulder, ignoring the way the man reflexively flinched at his touch.

He sighed. He was rarely one to comfort another, much less the bane of his existence. But he wasn't about to let Mario suffer and writhe in terror, especially when **he** wasn't the direct cause.

 

Bowser stroked the man's hair. He had only done this for Junior, when the boy had come down with a terrible streak of night terrors. Of course, Junior had been seven years old, but when one was asleep, comfort seemed to settle a person regardless of their age.

Slowly, gradually, Mario's distressed whimpering quieted into soft whines. He felt his cheeks heat up as Mario's head turned upwards into his palm, soft lips and ticklish mustache pressing against the roughened skin.

Though he knew Mario was asleep and thus had no control over his actions, that didn't change the fact that the man was more or less kissing his palm. Which was an intimate expression of devotion that he hadn't experienced in ages.

 

It felt...nice.

Mario's head stayed like this for a few minutes as he gradually began to slide back into slumber. Just as he made to pull away, Bowser's breath hitched slightly as Mario's lips pressed to his hand firmly, with intent. The man smiled softly at Bowser, azure eyes filled with fondness. The Koopa King's heart raced, only to calm as he noticed that despite his eyes being open, Mario was still asleep.

 _"Grazie. Sei veramente un angelo..."_ he whispered, eyes unseeing but voice so full of undying loyalty.

Bowser's lips set in a firm line, and, not wanting to shatter whatever illusion Mario was currently conjuring, whispered back as softly as possible, "Go to sleep. You won't get better if you don't."

Mario sighed and nodded lethargically, eyes already slipping shut. _"Grazie..."_

"Sleep, Mario."

Mario smiled and his eyes finally closed, sending him drifting into a (hopefully) peaceful sleep. Bowser let his head fall to the pillow and stood up, slightly disoriented from what had just transpired.

He walked away from the bed and towards the door, spared one last glance at the slumbering man on the bed, then left the room, nearly forgetting to lock the door behind him before he started towards his own bedroom. 

Bowser knew those words, whatever they might have meant, were not meant for him. How could they be? The way Mario had spoken, had _looked_ at him. He was speaking to him like a lover, or at least an extremely close friend. The way his eyes filled with adoration, the endearing smile upon his lips, the kiss that had been placed to his palm...

Mario looked at him as though he'd readily lay down his _life_ for the Koopa King.

And it sent the worst, most unsettling feeling coiling around his gut. 

Though it might've a bit uncharacteristic for him to care about such things, he felt as though he was...intruding. Like Mario had just shown Bowser something that he was never supposed to see. Like the man had just laid his heart bare for his worst enemy. While vulnerable and asleep, no less. Of course, he couldn't understand what had even been said, but that hardly mattered. Everything from Mario's body language to his intonation to his soft, warm lips on Bowser's _stardammned_ **_hand_** -

 

He needed to sleep.

Interacting with Mario in a way that wasn't on the battlefield was clearly unhealthy for him mentally. A good night's sleep would do him wonders most likely. He'd be perfectly fine in the morning. No more thinking of Mario's past, or Mario's blue eyes full of devotion, or his unbelievably soft lips pressed to-

Bowser groaned. "Stars damn it all..."

* * *

Luigi Mario sat in his favorite easy chair by the fire, reading a book about Sarasaland's upcoming bi-annual Winter Moon Jubilee. He had been considering traveling there to visit. If not for the festivities, then to visit his close friend Daisy, who he hadn't seen in nearly a year.

However, he felt a bit anxious.

Mario should have rescued Peach by now.

For a split second, utter panic consumed him. The last time Mario hadn't returned home at the estimated time, Luigi had received an urgent summons to the Mushroom Kingdom Castle Town about 4 months later, and was treated to the blood-chilling sight of his brother on a hospital bed, his comatose body covered in wounds.

He shook the memory out of his head. If he though about it too much, he'd be almost guaranteed to have a nightmare, and with Mario's awful night terrors that had started cropping up over the past year, one of them had to at least _pretend_  to be stable.

He looked over at the window and at the full moon hanging in the sky, then sighed. Now was not the time to devolve into paranoid hysterics. It had only been a few hours. He'd wait a few days before having a full blown anxiety attack.

Luigi stood to his feet, setting the book on the coffee table. He blew out the candle that sat on the windowsill, and walked backwards towards their bedroom, preparing to turn in for the day. He spared one last look towards the door, anxiety still churning away in his gut.

"Be safe, _fratello_..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not translating all the Italian for this chapter. I want everyone to translate it themselves and be horrified on their own time about what Mario might've been nightmaring about. However, I'll give you this one. :^}
> 
> Grazie. Sei veramente un angelo- Thank you. You really are an angel


	6. Of Murdering and Koopa Kings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's been 4 days and Bowser is already tired.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: In case anyone missed the tags, there will be discussions and situations concerning PTSD. If this subject matter upsets you, I urge you to proceed through this chapter with caution.
> 
> This is also a chapter that will be longer than others, so...enjoy.

* * *

Bowser was floating.

He was weightless, drifting through a field of stardust that seemed to stretch infinitely across the sky.

His spirit floated and he sighed at the feeling of the glimmering dust against his skin. Such soft, gentle touches were rare for him, and he relished in their caress.

As the moments passed, though, the touches became firmer. Warmer. Solid. More...human.

He heard whispers. Too quiet to make out the voice. The words were garbled gibberish...or were they? They seemed to have rhythm...a pattern.

Another language.

The strokes became a bit overwhelming to Bowser. It had been over a decade since he had been touched this way, with such passion and reverence. The voice seemed to be closer now, more incessant. Warm puffs of air blew across his neck and he suppressed a shiver.

Then, he could make something out. Or rather, someone. A silhouette made of stardust.

 ** _"_** _ **L'odio è davvero tutto ciò che c'è, bambino stella?**_ ** _"_** It asked, softly, voice familiar and yet...not.

 

And then its eyes opened.

* * *

Bowser abruptly returned to the realm of the awakened, laying in his bed and gasping for much-needed air. He let out a soft curse, both at the frenetic beating of his heart and the dream that had startled him from slumber. His eyes darted over to the large window that led to his balcony. The stars, ever glimmering in their majesty, were dappled across the sky, and the full moon hung in the midst of them, luminescent and glorious.

He flashed back to his dream. Floating through stardust, the gentle strokes and caresses of unfamiliar hands, the unidentifiable whispers in his ear...

 

Those deep azure eyes, staring into his own scarlet.

Eyes so seemingly bottomless that Bowser had felt breathless looking into them in his dream, and even upon waking still made him feel short of breath.

The only thing he even recognized were the eyes.

Despite the blue hue of them, they were not Peach's. Her baby blue irises lacked that depth, that illusion of endlessness. Her eyes were shallow. Not ugly, but definitely lacking any sort of deepness. You could look into her eyes and know exactly where she stood. Like a shallow pool of clean, clear ocean water, unable to hide anything on its floor. 

No, those eyes were not hers, but Bowser wished they had been, if only so he didn't have to confront the reality of his dream.

 

The eyes in his dream, that analyzed him with such genuine intensity...were none other than Mario's.

Which meant the hands that had caressed his arms, his shoulders, his face...were Mario's.

And the voice whispering nonsense into his ear...belonged to-

"Son of a bitch...you gotta be kiddin' me..." Bowser muttered, unbelieving at what his own subconscious had conjured up regarding his arch-nemesis. Sure, he had teased the man, but that was all it was! Teasing meant to get underneath the superstar's skin, to unsettle him.

It wasn't like he was attracted to the guy. Especially considering how much of a cocky, goodie two-shoes pain in the ass he was. He hated Mario. And he was 90 percent certain that Mario felt the same. Why else would he constantly thwart his plans?

He rubbed his face, pissed off and sleepy. It had only been two days and he was already having stardamned _dreams_ about Mario.

The man was an obnoxious heel even when incapacitated, it seemed.

How frustrating.

* * *

 There were no secrets in Bowser's Castle, especially among the King and his most loyal soldiers--the Koopalings.

However, Bowser had hoped to get at least a week before those nosy little shits found out.

Suffice to say, the scene he saw upon entering the guest room (whose lock had been melted off. He really should've re-thought giving a bunch of teenagers the equivalent of magical cherry bombs) was one that gave him a massive headache.

Mario looked both bewildered, frightened, and extremely uncomfortable, which were all fair emotions for anyone to have when Lemmy Koopa was standing over them, pointing his wand at their face. Junior stood off to the side, obviously nervous and looking towards Wendy for some type of assurance or assistance. The girl paid him no attention though, as she was occupied examining Mario's injured foot with vague interest.

...

"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU BRATS DOING!?"

Seemingly at once, they scrambled over each other. Lemmy's wand went flying, Wendy shrieked and let out a hiss as it smacked her head, and Bowser Junior squawked as she accidentally elbowed him in the cheek.

Mario looked startled upon Bowser's outburst, but managed a shaky sigh of relief. At least all focus was off him. Momentarily.

"Uh, h-hey Lord Bowser! Fancy seein' you here!" Lemmy tittered, eyes darting to the side and away from Bowser's angry glare.

**"Why. Are. You. In. Here."**

And then the accusations started.

"I told them we shouldn't have come in here...none of these stupid boys ever listen to me!"

"Quit lyin', Wendy! Yer the one who pointed it out to begin with!"

"That wasn't a prompt to melt the lock off and break in, you ignoramus!"

"I didn't even wanna come in here Dad! Honest! Lemmy dragged me along!"

"Liar! You coulda left whenever you wanted!"

"If you both weren't such obnoxious idiots, none of this would even be happening!"

"I am not an idiot!"

"Yes you are!"

"No I'm not!" 

"Yes. You. Are!"

"Nuh-uh!"

"Uh-huh!"

"Nuh-uh!"

"ENOUGH!" Bowser roared, stomping his foot, and the teens quickly ceased their bickering. Bowser's angry glare roved over them before he continued, voice more controlled. "I don't care who started it, or who's to blame or who ain't! I want to know why you brats are in this obviously sealed off room! Now, Lemmy, Wendy, act like the lieutenants you are, and answer my damn question quickly and honestly."

"Y-Yes, Lord Bowser." Lemmy stammered. "Well, you see, we-"

"We heard, like, a noise coming from the room. Lemmy heard it too, and he had the  _brilliant_ idea to melt the lock off."

'You didn't say not to..." Lemmy mumbled under his breath. Bowser gave him a warning glance and Lemmy flinched. "Uh, we saw Mario and well-"

"We like, thought he broken in and were _going_ rough him up...but then we saw the...um-"

"Why's Mario all bandaged up Dad? You beat him right? Shouldn't he be in the dungeon or somethin'?" Bowser Jr. looked incredibly confused.

"I don't recall asking you to say anything, Junior. Go to your room. We'll discuss this later on at dinner."

"But Dad-"

_**"Now."** _

 Junior flinched, looked at the other teens, then at Mario, then back to his father. 

He turned and left the room.

"And as for you two, you're on kitchen duty tonight. Oversee dinner prep, and help clean up afterwards. And for fuck's sake, don't mention this to the other Koopalings, especially Ludwig. Little prick would just badger me all through the meal, and I'm gonna be way too hungry and pissed to stop myself from launchin' a fireball at his smug face."

"Like, fine. Okay." "Whatever ya want Lord Bowser!"

"Tch. Dismissed. Get the fuck outta here." He growled, waving them away with a disinterested sneer. The Koopalings saluted and scurried out, but not before Wendy shot a curious look at Mario. It lasted only a split second, then with a snap of the bubble gum she was chewing, she left, pink and platinum blond curls bouncing behind her.

Bowser closed the door, and turned to Mario. "You alright, 'Stache?"

Mario cleared his throat. "Uh...well...I guess. Just a bit...confused. I swear Lemmy was going to shoot me..."

"Be thankful he didn't."

"I am." Mario snapped. "I just can't understand why they didn't hurt me."

"Beating up somebody who can't put up a fight is below Koopas."

Mario snorted. "Don't act like you have honor, Bowser. I'm not convinced you even know what it is."

"Oh, what, and _you_ know?" Bowser shot back.

"I'd like to think I know the concept better than you!"

"Yeah, 'cause the asshole throwing another person into a pool of lava on a consistent basis would know a fuckton about honor. Tell me, Mario, do you know what it's like burning to death? All your flesh melting off until you're reduced to bones, only to be risen from the dead, and have the same damn thing happen all over again another day?  Lemme tell ya, from personal experience: it's not a very honorable or fun time."

Mario glared, but let his eyes wander to the side. "I...wasn't aware it bothered you so much, Bowser."

Bowser let out a disbelieving laugh. "What? You didn't think  _dying_ affected me? You're a special kind of asshole, aren't you, 'Stache?"

"I did what I had to! You're the one causing trouble, starting wars, and hurting the people I care about! I refuse to let you make me out to be some kind of monster!"

Bowser snarled and walked closer to the bed, towering over his nemesis. "So, what? Am _**I**_ the monster? That what you're sayin', 'Stache? Is that what you tell yerself? I'm the big, bad monster, and you're the knight in shining armor that's gonna save the day, right? Is that why it's so fuckin' easy for you to disregard any pain I might've experienced?"

Mario flinched, and for a split second, something resembling apprehension crossed his features. It was gone just as quickly and he glared silently, furious azure eyes staring into Bowser's own. Bowser returned the glare and sneered.

"I bet that _is_ what you do. You're such a nice fuckin' guy, aren't ya Mario? You can't bring yerself to kill a  _person,_ so naturally, you make me out to be something else entirely, so you can feel better about yourself when you  **fucking. Murder. Me.** " He got closer, hands on either side of his enemy's body, menacing the brunette into the mattress.

"S-Stop it...I'm not...I'm not a murderer..." Mario growled, shaking his head.

"Yes you fucking are, Mario. Stop lying to yerself. You murder me, get a kiss from Peach, and eat cake while my bones sit blackening in a lava pit." He was so close to Mario, now. So close. "Don't suppose you stopped to think how that affected my family? My kid, who makes me fuckin' _**promise**_ not to **die** before every showdown I have with you? Or my fucking father, who's gotta gather up my damn remains and bring me back from the fucking dead? How about my Kingdom, that gets thrown into civil turmoil and is left without proper government for sometimes as long as weeks? But no, I'm just a **monster**...right? Monsters don't have families and responsibilities! So you can kill 'em without feelin' bad."

"I-I...I'm not...I didn't-" Tears were beginning to well up in Mario's eyes, but of course Bowser wouldn't let up.

"I wonder Mario, what do you do when you go home? Maybe fix yourself something to eat? Read a book? Maybe you actually take a fucking nap. Yeah, I'll bet you do go to sleep, knowing that you killed somebody that afternoon. Didya even feel bad about it the _first_  time? Or have you always been a **cold-blooded murderer**?"

That did it.

With a screech, Mario attempted to throw himself away from Bowser, pain rushed up his leg, but his flight response was far too strong to care. "I'M **NOT**! I'M NOT A MURDERER! I'M NOT, I DIDN'T **WANT** TO! I HAD NO **CHOICE**!" Tears streamed down his cheeks, and he hyperventilated as his terrified eyes darted around the room, looking for some kind of escape route. Something, fucking anything! He'd crawl if necessary. His hands pulled at his hair with fervor as he sobbed desperately. "I DIDN'T...I DIDN'T WANT TO **KILL** HIM! I JUST WANTED TO GET AWAY! I WANTED IT TO **STOP**! I DIDN'T WANT HIM TO- HIM TO-!" Mario's eyes widened and tears began to fall even faster, and he let out an anguished scream as he shoved at Bowser's chest, who by this point was too shocked to respond. "GET **OFF** , GET AWAY! PLEASE, _**PLEASE**_!"

Bowser had no idea how he was supposed to react to this breakdown. It was so massively removed from what he knew about Mario. Calm, collected, confident, brave Mario. That man wasn't here right now. What was in front of him currently was a terrified, trapped man.

He did the only thing that came to mind. 

He wrapped his arms around Mario, taking care to avoid joslting his bruised up ribs. Mario reacted similarly to an abused animal and began to shriek and whine, wriggling. Bowser refused to let go. His hand came up to run through Mario's hair, and Mario untensed slightly.

"Ssh...s'okay..." he mumbled. "It's gonna be alright...not gonna hurt ya..."

Mario slowly began to lose that tension, and after a few minutes, he simply relaxed in Bowser's hold, whimpering softly.

 _"Non volevo ucciderlo. Io davvero non volevo. C'era così tanto sangue...stava per rifarlo. Non volevo..."_ he whispered desperately as his fist balled up against Bowser's shirt.

"Damn it Mario, I dunno what the fuck yer sayin'..." Bowser growled, but his voice lacked the bite that it had usually. He was too stressed out by Mario's freakout to be properly annoyed at the man.

Mario looked up at him, and Bowser felt his heart stop. Those azure eyes, just as vibrant as his dream.

"I'm sorry."

* * *

 

"...Whaddya mean 'I'm sorry'?" Bowser asked, crimson eyebrow raised in confusion.

"You're right. I do...I do what you say I do. I dissociate from the situation. I kill you, and then go home. I have cake, I get a kiss." He smiled softly, with melancholy. "But I can never eat. Or sleep for that matter."

Bowser's eyes widen. He doesn't...

"You never sleep?"

Mario shook his head. "I can't sleep without thinking about you...burning. The _smell_. The sound of you...roaring. In pain." Mario wiped at his nose and sighed. "It feels like a hole opens up in my stomach. Like I was in a fog cloud for a few minutes...and then I snap out of it, and you're just...you're there. And you're...dying. I threw up the first few times. Since then, it's gotten a bit easier. But I still can't bring myself to eat or sleep properly a week or so afterwards."

"R-Really?"

"Eventually the feeling goes away. But...yes. Watching you die...affects me." Mario looked down at his lap. "So...I'm sorry."

Bowser was stunned. Was he still dreaming? There's no way the real Mario would ever apologize to him.

"Of course..." Mario continued, eyes hard. "I'm sorry that you _suffered_. Not that I did it. Your actions...harm people, and I have to stop you. I wish there were ways to do it gently...peacefully. But you don't respond to diplomacy..."

Of course it was too much to ask for a full apology, huh?

"Tch. Whatever. I'm not sorry for doin' what I do. I'm evil, Mario. Didn't you get the memo like...shit, I dunno, years ago?"

Mario snorted. "The fact that you can say that you are 'evil', unironically, still baffles me. Who _does_ that?"

"I do. 'Cause it's true. I'm the evilest king around." Bowser snapped, rolling his shoulders.

Mario rolled his eyes and chuckled. "Evil kings don't hold their enemies as tenderly as you did..."

"Oh fuck off, you mustachioed prick." Bowser grumbled, face flushing slightly. He _had_ held Mario pretty tenderly.

Mario snickered. "Anyways, I'm hungry, and I bet Peach is too. Why not grab us something to eat and let us have lunch together?"

"What, so you can plot an escape attempt? No damn way. I'll bring you a plate up in a little while, and she'll get hers." Bowser stared upwards in thought. "Should probably apply more salve and change yer bandages too." He sniffed. "And you could use a bath. Smells musky and stale in here."

Mario raised an eyebrow. "A bath? I'm not a dog, you don't need to wash-EEK! Heya!? What are you-put me down!" Bowser had lifted the man into his arms, minding his slowly mending ankle.

"Yeesh, you reek. How long had it been since your last bath before getting here, 'Stache?"

"N-none of your business!"

"Being difficult ain't gonna stop you from getting a bath, ya know."

"Put. Me. _Down_!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooo, another 'translate the angst and horror yourself' chapter. Oh goody, goody! ;^}
> 
> Oh, I guess I can translate one...
> 
> L'odio è davvero tutto ciò che c'è, bambino stella?- Is hatred truly all there is...Star Child?
> 
>  
> 
> In other news, I want to post art every chapter or so, but unfortunately, inserting media on this site nowadays is...really difficult. Photobucket's a no-go, and Tumblr doesn't work very well either. I'm open to solutions and suggestions from you lovely people! :^)


	7. Koopa Caregiver

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mario has a bath.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: This chapter has sexual undertones. This is where the M rating comes through. So be advised.

"Do. Not! Take my clothes off!" Mario growled, batting away the Koopa King's large hands. Bowser towered over him, since he had plunked Mario down on the toilet lid due to the plumber being unable to stand unaided.

Bowser rolled his eyes. "'S not as if you can take 'em off yerself, 'Stache."

Mario flushed deeply. "Even so, I still don't need _you_ to take them off!"

"Look, either you let me undress you so you can get your smelly ass washed, or I can undress you regardless."

 

"Those are hardly different choices!"

Bowser smirked. "I disagree. One is nice and easy, and the other is significantly less so."

Mario stared at the tile floor, pouting. Bowser refused to acknowledge how downright cute it was.

"Fine. Just...be gentle." He relented, hands dropping to his sides in defeat.

"Phrasing, Mario. Phrasing."

A fiery blush bloomed across Mario's nose and cheeks. " _Idiota!_ Would you just hurry up already!?"

Bowser chuckled. He bent down to pull Mario's shirt over his head. The overalls had to be tossed out rather quickly, as it was an absolute struggle trying to go to the restroom and deal with them afterwards. Now, Mario simply wore his red undershirt and a pair of loose sweatpants that Larry had outgrown. 

Mario reluctantly lifted his arms, allowing the cotton material to glide up and over his head. Bowser let out a soft hum. Mario was pudgy, naturally, but he was toned where it counted. His arms had very defined musculature, likely from lugging around hammers for years. Mario was hairy, though not nearly as much as himself. Dark brown hair ran across the man's chest, and down over his small belly. The bruising on his ribs was noticeable, ugly bluish brown marring the otherwise rosy skin.

"Oh, please. Take a picture. It will last longer. " Mario deadpanned. Bowser snapped out of the trance he had been in, and looked at Mario. The human blushed obviously flustered.

"Heh. Nervous?"

"With you staring at me like you're gonna eat me, I see no reason why I _shouldn't_ be."

Bowser rolled his eyes. "I was just lookin' at your ribs. That bruising looks pretty bad."

"And I wonder who's fault _that_ is." The man replied icily.

"I'll apply some salve to em' after the bath. Now, yer pants."

Mario's eyes widened. "I...do we have to?" Bowser felt his own cheeks heat up a tad at the inflection in Mario's voice. It was...nervous. Almost...innocent sounding.

 

Cute.

"'Fraid so, 'Stache. C'mon, legs up."

Mario whined gently, before complying. He lifted his legs tentatively, refusing to look at Bowser. Bowser bent down again, resting his hands on Mario's hips.

 

Ignoring how...utterly suggestive their positioning was, Bowser hooked his fingers onto the waistband of the sweatpants, and pulled downwards. Mario's eyes scrunched shut, face aflame and bottom lip being worried at by his teeth.

Slowly but surely, the grey pants were worked over Mario's hips, down his thighs, down to his calves, and carefully pulled off his feet. Bowser let it fall to the floor.

"U-Uhm..." Mario spluttered, stupified.

"Huh. You've got nice legs." Bowser muttered.

And he did. Nicely muscled thighs and strong calves, with just the tiniest bit of fat on the inner thigh. A smattering of coarse, dark hair covered those legs, a big contrast to the comparatively pale skin it rested upon. Mario's skin around the bandages on his foot was discolored. The Koopa King stroked a hand over the man's thigh, thumb rubbing into his skin.

Mario flushed deeply. "I...I..."

Bowser's eyes widened as he realized what he'd done. He yanked his hand away as if burnt. "Sorry! I didn't-"

Mario cleared his throat. "You could at least buy me dinner, _pervertita tartaruga_." He mumbled, cheeks aglow with embarrassment.

"It's just...you um...yer legs are nice." Bowser stammered, scratching his beard.

Mario's eyes widened and he turned away from the Koopa King. "Are you trying to bathe me or seduce me?" Mario deadpanned.

Bowser's mouth opened and closed, before he pinched the bridge of his nose in resignation. "Look, just...I gotta..." He gestured vaguely to the black briefs Mario wore.

"No way!"

"C'mon Mario, we're both men. You ain't got nothing I haven't seen before."

"You..." Mario's eyes widened. "You aren't going to wash my-"

 Bowser flashed him a decidedly nasty smirk. "Until yer in a position to clean yourself, I have to. That's what a caregiver does, Mario."

Mario's cheeks flared up red. "You aren't my caregiver,  _idiota!"_

"I feed ya, give ya water, talk to ya, and I'm currently willing to bathe ya. What the fuck do YOU call that?"

"Weird." Mario stated simply, crossing his arms.

"Hey, caregiving is a respectable profession. Don't be insensitive, 'Stache."

Mario scoffed. "I'm not talking about all caregivers. It's weird when YOU do it."

"Hey, I bathed Junior. Can't be much different."

Mario frowned. Then, he shut his eyes and sighed. "Fine. Hurry up."

Bowser smirked. He slipped his thumbs into the band of Mario's briefs, and began tugging down. When he reached resistance, he shifted his hand to slide under Mario's rear. His hand was larger than Mario's, and the entire cheek fit in his hand rather nicely. He briefly considered squeezing, curious of Mario's reaction.

However, Mario brought him away from this train of thought as the human let out a decidedly undignified yelp. "E-Easy! Don't go touching me like that, so casually!"

Bowser continued pulling the briefs over Mario's thighs. 

Ah.

 

There it was.

"S-Stop staring at it! Some caregiver you are...caregivers don't stare at their charge's...privates, like you're doing!"

The Koopa King rolled his eyes. "I'm going to be washing it in a few minutes and you're embarrassed about me seeing it?"

"You keep staring at me like you'd like to eat me!"

"I mean, I am a bit hungry." Bowser replied nonchalantly, pulling the briefs down to Mario's ankles.

"Y-You...that was even more unsettling!"

"Yeah, yeah..." Bowser droned, practically flicking the undergarment off of Mario's feet.

He stood to his feet and stretched a bit. 

His red eyes roamed over Mario.

 

Had anyone told him a few years ago that he'd see Mario's entire nude body, mostly willingly, he'd have laughed in their face.

 

Now though...

 

Now, he enjoyed the view far more than he should.

The flushing of Mario's body was particularly eye-catching, reddish tint smattered liberally across his body, mostly around his collarbones, neck, thighs, and-

 

 

Oh that was just  _precious._

"Cute...it blushes too..." Bowser murmured.

Mario gasped and covered his exposed privates. "Stop staring and hurry up you...you-!"

"Yeah, yeah...C'mon 'Stache..."

* * *

Getting Mario into the bathtub had been considerably less of an ordeal than undressing him. The small brunette didn't put up much of a fight as he was lifted up into the large bath. It had a raised part at the back that was just wide enough for him to sit on.

Bowser fit the plug over the drain, and turned on the faucet, the water just slightly hotter than lukewarm.

He started from the feet upwards, gingerly running the cloth along Mario's foot. The man whined and whimpered as twinges of pain sparked up from the injured ankle. The magical Mushroom salve had helped with the pain and sped up the healing process for the fracture, but it would still take a few more weeks before it finally stopped hurting.

"This...h-hurts..." Mario whispered.

"I know, but I'm almost done. Hang on, Mario..." Bowser replied, soothingly so. Satisfied with the cleaning, Bowser moved up to his calves, soaping them up, then began to gently scrub those thick, strong thighs. Mario flushed.

"A-Ah..." Mario let out a soft gasp.

Bowser's eyes flicked up from his work to look at the other man. "Something wrong, 'Stache?"

Mario pouted and looked away. "N-No...I'm...f-fine." He managed to stammer out, tremors traveling up his legs as those strong hands ran that warm cloth along his thighs. 

_"Please don't notice I'm shaking, **please** don't notice I'm shaking, please don't-"_

"Really. 'Cuz you sure are shaking a lot for someone who's 'fine'."

_"Shit, fuck, damn it-"_

"Shaking? N-No...I'm just. Cold."

Bowser gave him an incredibly deadpan expression. "Cold."

"Y-Yeah."

Bowser ran the cloth over Mario's hip, and then over his side. The brunette full body  _shuddered,_ and let out a soft gasp. "'Cold', huh? Sure, I'll buy it..." Bowser replied sarcastically. He moved to Mario's other side, and the other man let out another gasp. "Still cold?"

"N-No- I MEAN YES. V-Very cold!"

Bowser smirked, allowing his cloth covered hand moved towards Mario's groin.

"I-I can wash it myself!" Mario exclaimed, face scarlet.

"Mario, you can barely move your arms with how messed up yer ribs are. I get that it's weird for you, I really do. But I'm not gonna let ya hurt yerself." 

"W-Why not!? You hate me! You  _like_ when I hurt myself!"

Bowser frowned. "I mean...I do, but, it's different now!"

"How! Nothing's changed! We're still enemies, so why would you care if I got hurt while washing myself?"

"B-Because...look Mario, that's a lot of emotional introspection that I'm not mentally ready to go through. Would you just relax and let me clean yer dick already?"

 Mario flushed. "P-Please don't."

Bowser sighed. "Fine. Here." He passed the cloth to Mario. "Clean it yerself. But don't start complainin' when it hurts."

"Could you also look away?"

Bowser rolled his eyes and did so. He heard Mario take in a deep breath, and heard him attempt to stifle a sharp cry of pain. Something in him flinched at the sound. It was pitiful. 

"Ya done Mario?"

A sniffle. "Y-Yeah..."

Bowser sighed and turned around. "So, ya wanna wash the rest of yerself?"

Mario looked up at him, tears rolling down his cheeks. "...No."

Bowser sighed and took the washcloth from the brunette "'S what I thought."

* * *

Mario's crutch (handmade by the Koopa King, shoddily) had been forgotten in his room, so after bathing and rinsing Mario off, Bowser wrapped him in a towel (much larger than Mario himself, since it was Bowser's towel) and carried him back towards his room.

"So, I'll get yer pants and stuff washed. You can borrow Roy's old pajamas." Bowser stated as he set Mario down on the bed. "You can air dry here, and wrap up a bit in the towel if ya get cold." He gave Mario a once over. The man looked small, smaller than he'd ever looked to his nemesis. He was covered in water, and his cheeks were flushed red. The rest of the bath had been less confrontational  but no less embarrassing for his captive. "'l'll be back soon, so don't even think of escapin'."

Mario let out a defeated sigh. "Not like I'd want to escape like this anyways..."

Bowser frowned, before turning away from the man and towards the door. 

Mario looked down and waited until he heard Bowser's footsteps fade away.

The tears came silently at first. Slowly, however, his shoulders began to hitch as hiccups and sobs came unbidden from his throat.

 

_''He was right...I really... **can't**...take care of myself..."_


End file.
